


The Cure for What Ails You

by Gabrielle



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 17:25:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2515832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabrielle/pseuds/Gabrielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spike is poisoned by a demon and there's only one cure... Angel's blood. But just how does Willow fit into all this? *Set in Season 4 of BTVS*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Cure for What Ails You

The Cure for What Ails You  
  
  
  
“Thanks for coming. We wouldn’t have called you except…”  
  
“Where is he?” Angel interrupted, not really in the mood for a long explanation from Buffy. Even before she’d called, he’d known something was wrong with Spike – and that it had to be something _truly_ terrible. His soul almost completely muted their connection most of the time.  
  
Some girl he vaguely recognized pointed to the couch. “He’s right there.”  
  
Angel walked around and was greeted by a sight that effectively killed his lingering animosity towards his rapscallion of a childe – the pain Spike was clearly suffering would have melted _Holtz’s_ heart. Willow was wiping his forehead with a cool cloth and murmuring to him through sobs she was trying desperately to hold back. “Angel?” She leapt to her feet and hugged him. “I’m… you have to help him! He was stung by a Revanche demon and…” When she began to glare past him, Angel turned and noticed that the object of her ire was the girl whose name he didn’t know.  
  
“Don’t blame me! I thought everyone knew that Revanche venom is toxic to vampires.”  
  
“You might have mentioned it.” Giles spoke up from a chair in which he was sitting, slouched and clearly weary.  
  
The girl was about to speak again – and Angel would have had to restrain himself from throttling her – but Xander came over and put his arm around her. “An, this isn’t an argument you’re gonna win, okay? Next time just tell us stuff, even if you think we should already know it.” Then, as if to forestall his companion’s lack of tact or concern from engendering even more ill will, Xander began to pull this ‘An’ toward the door. “We’re going.”  
  
There was some sort of muted bickering and Angel distinctly caught the word ‘orgasms’, but he didn’t give a damn about Xander’s sex life. What he gave a damn about was the agonized vampire on Giles’s couch. “You need to leave, too,” he told the others as the door closed behind Xander and the girl. “This is between me and my… and Spike.”  
  
Buffy seemed poised on the edge of protesting and was looking at him with a pained expression, but Giles took her in hand. “Quite,” he said, showing admirable equanimity at being ordered from his own home. To Angel it meant that he understood the gravity of the situation and even cared about whether Spike ceased to exist or not. With the same alacrity Xander had shown, Giles pulled Buffy out the door. Oh was Angel going to pay for it later – Buffy never took kindly to being shut out of anything that in her view concerned _them_ – but for now…  
  
“I’ll go too,” Willow said and Angel nodded, but then, much to the shock of them both, a tortured voice came from the figure on the sofa.  
  
“Stay. Please?” Spike groaned. Angel wanted to argue, but Spike opened his eyes and Angel hadn’t the heart to refuse, despite not wanting to share Spike’s cure with a witness. This might get… well… _intimate_.  
  
Now, however, time was of the essence and he wasn’t going to waste it in arguing. “All right,” he said. “Go sit over there.” Willow obeyed without a word, taking the chair in which Giles had been sitting moments ago. It was out of Angel’s sightline when he was looking at Spike and he was grateful. He only hoped she elected not to share what she was about to see with Buffy.  
  
A fresh cry of agony from Spike reminded him of what was really important and Angel chided himself for delaying matters as long as he had. There was one and only one cure for Revanche poisoning and it was currently in Angel’s veins. Whipping off his shirt, and ignoring the short gasp from Willow, he sat on the edge of the couch, pulled Spike up, and maneuvering so as to give the best possible access to his neck, he commanded him, “Drink.”  
  
Within a second, Spike’s fangs were in his throat and… god! Angel hadn’t expected his reaction to be so intense. It had been too long since he’d shared himself with his boy and his body was clearly starving for connection. Spike felt the same, at least if the whimpers and moans and the erection he could see straining the boy’s jeans were any indication… his own cock was just as hard.  
  
He thought he might have heard another gasp from Willow, but he wasn’t paying attention. If this were the old days… but it wasn’t, so there’d be no taking this where he and his boy were both longing to go. It might not be perfect happiness, but it was a risk… and it would be a promise Angel could never keep.  
  
A moment later, Angel felt Spike’s fangs leave his neck. There was a soft sigh and a murmured “Thank you, sire” and then the boy lay back down, this time sybaritic and indolent, nothing to show that mere minutes ago he’d been descending agonizingly into permanent death. How easily he slipped back into himself. Angel watched as he cocked an eyebrow at the witness sitting wide-eyed in the chair across the room. “Enjoy the show, pet?” She shook her head too quickly and Spike laughed. “My nose says different.” The girl’s blush went from rose to crimson in seconds. “Nothing to be ashamed of. We’re a couple of handsome blokes.” Angel could _feel_ the blatant once-over Spike gave him and he cursed the curse and the Kalderash in a dozen languages.  
  
But now, of course, he was concerned. All right, maybe she’d found certain things… stimulating, but how would she react in the long run? Was he right when he’d worried earlier about her telling Buffy? Because that would be a disaster and he well knew it.  
  
He elected to pay attention to what was going on right now; that, after all, was the likeliest source of answers to his questions. “C’mere.” Spike tilted his head in a beckoning posture as he spoke, and much to Angel’s surprise, Willow complied with his request. “Wanted you here for a reason, pet. How long’s it been since Dogboy’s been gone?”  
  
Dogboy? Oh, that could only be Spike’s nickname for Oz and… Wait. Oz was gone?  
  
There’d be no chance for questions, though, because it was clear from the glint in his eye that Spike had an agenda… and it was one with which Angel was only too pleased to go along. “Been a month or so, hasn’t it?” Oh yeah, Angel knew where this was going. He watched as Willow nodded and looked shamefaced. “You know,” Spike continued, his voice low and sensual, “it doesn’t seem a bit fair. I mean here you go and get me all fixed up, take my pain away, and you…”  
  
“I didn’t really do anything,” she interrupted.  
  
“Nonsense. You’re the one who did the research, found out what the cure was, got your Slayer to make the call. Without you I’d be in worse agony than ever and well on my way to a dusty end. Seems only right I repay… the favour.” Spike’s tongue darted out to moisten his lower lip and Angel thought his cock just might explode. Gods below but his boy knew how to drive him crazy.  
  
The trick seemed to be working on Willow, too. Spike had been right – the girl’s arousal scented the air with magic and longing. “Let me make it better.” The voice was pure sex now and Willow had to know exactly what he meant; Angel sure did.  
  
“You mean…?” Spike cocked an eyebrow and smirked at the now scarlet-cheeked girl.  
  
“Oh yeah.”  
  
She looked around, saw Angel, and her eyes widened so he could see the roundness of her eyeballs. “N-now?”  
  
You know, now seemed like a fine time to Angel. Please, if anyone was listening to the prayers of a vampire with a soul, let him watch.  
  
Naturally, being human and, partly thanks to him – but mostly Buffy – not identifying with her vampire counterpart, she didn’t embrace her inner exhibitionist. “Is Angel…?” She changed her mind and addressed him directly. “Are you gonna leave?”  
  
Damn it! Just when he was about to at least get _some_ relief… but then Spike, bless him, came to his rescue. “Now, now. You got to watch us. I think the least you can do is give him a bit of a show in return.”  
  
“But… but you two weren’t naked!” Was it his imagination or did Willow sound disappointed? You know, it was a damn good thing Angelus had gotten so distracted by the stupidity of Acathla that he hadn’t fully seen the latent potential in this girl… not that he hadn’t had an interest. Boy was Angel relieved that no one ever got the real meaning of that fish necklace… a fact made abundantly clear by Willow’s next words. “Besides. It’s not like you find me attractive or anything, right, Angel?”  
  
Oh great. Now he was on the spot. There was no safe answer to that question. Naturally, that being the case, Spike just had to step in and answer it for him… in the most unsafe way possible. “Hah. That what the Brooding One here led you to believe? News to me… and to Dru, for that matter. Angelus made her wear your knickers once… and braid her hair to boot. She ranted to the stars for hours after that little scene, I’ll tell ya. Even broke two of her dolls.”  
  
“Spike,” Angel growled, but it was no use. The unruly brat was on a roll and thoroughly enjoying revealing this particular secret.  
  
“Why do you think Dru encouraged him in that Acathla nonsense? Pretty sure it was her barmy idea in the first place. She’d rather see the whole world in Hell than have her Daddy besotted with someone else.” Spike’s tone had turned sharp and bitter and his eyes clouded for a moment.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Angel offered, and he hoped his sincerity would make up for the paltriness of the words. But on another note, Spike’s theory made a lot of sense and he was now scoffing at his demon for being such an idiot. Letting Dru trick him into believing that craziness was his own idea? Really? Yeah, like having a soul was anywhere near as pathetic as that.  
  
But back to the matter at hand. He and Spike locked eyes with each other and a deep, meaningful understanding occurred… they were both bound and determined to see Willow ride Spike for all she was worth as soon as possible.  
  
Willow’s voice ended the moment, but that wasn’t all bad. “Angel?” she said, eyes wide and curious. “You…you wanted…?”  
  
“To chain you to his bed and fuck you till you couldn’t walk? Yeah, that would sum it up.” Thanks again for the help, Spike. This time Angel glared at him. All right, it was the truth, but he could have been more diplomatic about it.  
  
More blushing, but by the smell of things? She wasn’t entirely displeased. Would wonders never cease? Spike noticed too and glowered. Oh. Baby boy was jealous.  
  
If he were soulless, Angel would have had a good deal of fun with that, but now… not as if he could close the deal with Willow anyway. Best to step back and let Spike take center stage. He sure had it bad for the girl.  
  
“’Course he’s not the only one in this room that wanted ya… and he’s not the one that wanted – _wants_ – you most.”  
  
She was truly beautiful as she glowed under the warmth of Spike’s regard… still, Angel was kind of hoping they’d get this show on the road. He did, after all, have to get back to L.A. before sunrise, and who knew how long Giles would stay away from his own apartment?  
  
Spike caught his eye and, as had been the case all night, they were of one mind… sort of. “No need to doff all your clothes, luv. We can still have quite a time – long as you slide those knickers off.” Well, the lack of nudity would be a bit of a buzzkill, but there was something to be said for watching any kind of sex, even when there was something left to the imagination.  
  
Trying to make her more comfortable with the idea, Angel went to the chair she’d recently vacated and sat down, leaning back and making himself as inconspicuous as possible.  
  
Sitting up, Spike beckoned Willow again. “Come here.” Wonders would never cease. She did. “Give us a kiss.”  
  
“I…uhh…” She leaned in and gave him what Angel could tell she’d intended as a chaste peck. Naturally, Spike didn’t let it stay that way. His hand moved to the back of her head, holding her to him while the kiss turned passionate. Willow’s moan… oh gods below, please, _please_ , get to the good part.  
  
Yes! Spike’s other hand was moving up Willow’s thigh and under her skirt. “Know you want me,” Spike murmured as his lips left hers. “Want ya too.” He smirked at her. “Let’s get these off ya.” For a moment Angel worried that she’d turn and look at him and it would all be over, but instead…  
  
She reached up under her skirt and pushed her panties down her legs and then stepped out of them. Oh how he hoped she’d forget them afterwards. What? He’d dropped everything to come here at a moment’s notice and save Spike’s unlife. He deserved a souvenir.  
  
A moment passed with her standing by the couch seeming confused and so Spike explained something. “Afraid I’m still a bit the worse for it after that demon. You’re gonna need to do the taking.”  
  
For a moment she still seemed confused, but then… “Oh… Oh!” and the scarlet returned to her cheeks. Damnit, she was going to… But then she once again confounded Angel’s expectations… and unbuttoned Spike’s fly. Angel’s mouth went dry as he watched her help Spike get the jeans down a bit and then…  
  
Dear whoever answered vampire prayers: Thank you!  
  
He watched in grateful joy, pulling out his own cock and stroking it as she climbed astride Spike, positioned him at her entrance and slowly sank down. Spike hissed, barely able to keep his game face from emerging. Willow’s head was thrown back, her eyes closed, as she gave in to passion. She looked absolutely exquisite like this, sensual pleasure transforming her delicate beauty into the perfect picture of debauched innocence.  
  
Yes, it bore repeating: Angelus was an idiot.  
  
Then Willow began to move, riding Spike as he urged her on. “Yeah, pet. Oh yeah. That’s it.” His hands were on her hips now – and Angel thrust against his hand, transfixed – as Spike guided her, thrusting up to meet her as they both neared release. “Willow!”  
  
“Oh god! Spike!”  
  
With those cries, they both came…  
  
… and so did Angel.  
  
Hey. Masturbation wasn’t perfect happiness. If it were, he’d have lost his soul about a week after getting it.  
  
Okay, a day.  
  
Before Willow could climb off of Spike, he pulled her to him and kissed her. “This was just the first time, love. You’d best get used to having me inside you.”  
  
“Promise?”  
  
With those words spoken in a voice still redolent of delicious innocence, Angel was officially jealous in his own right, but he had to admit he was happy for Willow. She deserved someone who wanted her… cherished her…  
  
Would it be tasteless and presumptuous if he asked for a videotape of the _next_ time?  
  
Just then, he felt that frisson of danger up his spine that said ‘Slayer,’ and he tucked himself quickly back into his pants, frantically wiping his hand against Giles’s chair. “They’re back,” he hissed, zipping his fly and getting to his feet. Willow quickly climbed off Spike and helped him get buttoned up as well.  
  
They were just in the nick of time, because the door opened and Buffy and Giles walked in. “I take it you were able to cure him?” Giles said as he noticed Spike sitting on the couch.  
  
“Yeah. He sure did,” Willow chirped a bit too cheerily. To anyone with any degree of perception, she reeked of guilt.  
  
Which meant they were probably in the clear, right?  
  
Unfortunately, at that precise moment, Buffy walked to the other side of the couch and…  
  
“Willow? Why is your underwear on the floor?”  
  
As Willow stammered and stalled in the search for an innocent explanation, all Angel could think was: Please god, don’t let Buffy have a stake. Because it would be horrible to have Spike wind up dust after they’d finally made peace with each other.  
  
What was worse, though?  
  
There went Angel’s souvenir.  
  
  
  
The End.


	2. The Cure for Christmas Eve When You Don't Celebrate Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Angel's Kuuipo. You're the best, sweetie!

The Cure for Christmas Eve When You Don't Celebrate Christmas

 

“Willow? Why is your underwear on the floor?”

“Red’s knickers? Give ‘em here… oh bloody hell! Slayer, as soon as I get this chip out… these things reek of Demon Girl… and Doughnut Boy!”

Spike would never be done patting himself on the back for that stroke of evil genius. Neat way out of a jam and the look on the Slayer’s face had been priceless. Rupert had been inscrutable, but then again, he was probably put out at the thought that the whelp was gettin’ some in his house when he wasn’t, repressed, tweed-clad eunuch that he was.

“What are you thinking about?” Willow had managed to sneak into the bedroom without him noticing and he cursed himself for not wiping the smirk off his face fast enough. “As if I didn’t know. You’re still gloating over making Buffy and Giles think those undies were Anya’s, aren’t you?”

Damn it, his girl knew him too bloody well. Trying to look innocent, he responded with a “no” that probably wouldn’t have even fooled Buffy, let alone someone with a proper set of brain cells.

Willow crossed her arms over chest and glared at him. Yeah, he was right – hadn’t fooled her at all. “Really?”

A gentleman never argued with a lady… besides, the last thing he needed was for her to be upset with him on this of all nights. All right, not like either he or Red gave much of a damn about Christmas Eve, but he had plans for tonight and while heat and friction were involved, they were of an entirely different sort. “You caught me, love.” He did his best to affect a genuinely shamefaced expression before he went to her, pulled her into his arms… and kissed her. “Mmmm,” he moaned. “Oh yeah, you caught me.”

She was gazing into his eyes now, her own full of emotion, and he couldn’t believe his luck. Yeah, all right, he was still stuck with this chip in his head and one more mug of pig’s blood would make him gag, but here he was, in Willow’s bedroom. She was way too good for him but, thank hell, she didn’t have the sense to know it, and any minute now he’d be making love to the finest girl he’d known in… well, ever, to be frank about it. He might have loved Dru to distraction, but she couldn’t hold a candle to Red, and it wasn’t just the difference in sanity levels either.

“I think it’s time for me to show you how much better I like it here than in that idiot Watcher’s tub,” he said, his hands moving to the hem of Willow’s shirt.

“Are you gonna make me cookies?” Minx. And yeah, he liked her that way.

“Got somethin’ you’ll like a whole lot more than cookies, love.”

That elicited a giggle which quickly became a moan as his hands moved up to caress her breasts for a moment – just so she’d get the point – but she became distracted as she noticed something. “Spike? Why is my computer on?”

Bugger! “Just lookin’ up this position I thought we could try.”

“I can’t believe you would need to look something up.”

Spike was flattered by her confidence in his encyclopedic sexual knowledge, but as he explained, “You’re human, love. Just wanted to make sure it was right for you.” Oh bloody hell! Why had he said that? Now she was thinkin’ about that mutt and his tick-bearing bitch. He hastened to correct the impression he’d unwittingly left. “Don’t you think for one second that I’m holding back or that you don’t give me all I could ever want. Just needed to be sure I was doin’ the same for you. Bein’ with… She only ever wanted it rough and hard. Kinda out of practice at the art of it all, you know?”

Those beautiful eyes he lov… liked so much were welling up with tears. “Oh Spike. You’re more than enough. You’re the best… Well, I’ve only been with… but even if I’d been with… You’re great. Really!” It was adorable the way she was stumbling through her words, not sure if inexperience was a turn off or if experience would make him think less of her. No woman had ever cared so much about his feelings. Well, no one except…

Best not to think about her right now. That would be quite a buzzkill.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” he replied, wanting to say more and say it better but not sure it was time yet. Still, what he’d said was hardly enough. “You’re amazing, love.”

She smiled and kissed him. Guess the festivities were back on. So he picked up where he’d left off, pulling the hideous, long-sleeved, tie-dyed t-shirt she was wearing over her head. Gods below, it didn’t even look good on the floor. The minute he got some extra dosh, they were going shopping.

But you know what did look good? Willow, right there in front of him, those sweet little tits of hers shrouded in a scrap of purple lace. Wonder if her knickers matched. Well, no time like the present to find out, and she was helping things along nicely by undoing the zipper on the shapeless and far too long denim skirt she was wearing and letting it fall to the floor before stepping out if it.

What do you know? She was indeed wearing a matching set. For a girl with such horrible taste in clothing, she sure made up for it with the lingerie. “You’re a vision.” Never had he been more honest. As of right now, his cock was harder than he could ever remember it being, so much so that getting his own kit off, at least his jeans, was a trickier bit of business than usual. Still, he accomplished it and, with no annoying extra garments to worry about, he was standing naked before her in but a moment.

The sharp intake of breath he heard did his ego no end of good. It was never going to pall, the way she looked at him – as if he was the handsomest, most desirable man she’d ever known. “You’re beautiful,” she said, awe and a bit of uncertainty in her eyes, and the latter made him want to track that mongrel down, skin him, and shag Willow eight ways from Sunday on the bloody fur he’d bring home as a trophy. That Oz bastard hadn’t half destroyed her self-confidence.

“I’m nowhere near as beautiful as you are, pet.” Before she could argue, he put his finger to her lips. “There now. The matter’s not up for debate. ‘Sides, I can think of much better things to be doing than arguing.”

Suiting the action to the tune, he grabbed her and pulled her onto the bed, tickling her. She giggled and squirmed but when his hand found the sensitive spot between her legs, she was moaning again. “Enjoying that?” She moaned again and he took that as a yes and as permission to slide those lacy knickers down her thighs, but when she went to unhook her bra, he stopped her. “Leave it on. I like it.” Then he went to work on her again, enjoying the increasing intensity of her moans and the wetness building between those smooth legs.

Suddenly, he stopped what he was doing and she stared up at him quizzically. “So what you say? Up for trying that new position?” She nodded, obviously eager to get on with it. Yeah, Spike still had what it took to get a girl to do exactly what he wanted.

So he laid down on the bed. Willow seemed more confused than ever. “I’ve been on top before.” Yes, she had – their very first time, in fact – and it had been grand, but this time there was a bit of a twist.

“I know that. But this time I want you facin’ the other way.”

“Oh.” He guided her so she was straddling his hips, facing away from, just as he instructed. He kept up with the directions and she took him in hand then…

Bloody hell! It never felt like anything less than a miracle, that moment when he first slid inside her. They were both still for a moment, then he began to guide her again. She was awkward at first, new positions were like that, especially for a human girl who didn’t have much experience with anything but what to him was basic vanilla, but she soon got the hang of it, and it was quite a turn on, knowing he was teaching her, taking her places she’d never gone before.

Well, that and the splendid view of that pert arse he was getting. That was damn near enough to make him combust. Oh did she have a luscious backside. There were some other things he was going to be teaching her involving that rump soon. Now, though, he wanted to be sure she knew how very much he was enjoying her increasingly confident movements. Just then she reached down and… “Oh god!” The little minx had grabbed his bits just right. If he wasn’t a demon, he’d have shot his load like a damn schoolboy. “Yeah, love, like that.”

True to his request, she kept doing what she was doing – and doing it so well that he was worried that even he couldn’t manage to hold off until she finished. “Arch your back,” he all but commanded, grateful for the gasp he heard as he reached around to help her out even further.

Just as he lost complete control… so did she. The two of them screamed in unison and Spike’s eyes rolled back in his head. He was pretty sure it had never, ever been this good, not with anyone, ever – not even when he was shagging Dru in the blood of their victims.

Not even when he was shagging Angelus.

Willow tumbled off him, panting. “That was… wow.” She turned and crawled up beside him, her eyes closed as she half dozed with her head against his shoulder.

“Yeah, love, that it was.” He smiled as he stared across the room at the desk… and the computer… and the little red light on the webcam.

Thank hell she hadn’t noticed that.

“Merry Christmas, Peaches,” he whispered, too softly for a sleepy, sated Willow to hear.

In Los Angeles, another vampire was reclining in a comfortable chair, naked, basking in afterglow, facing a computer screen… and smiling. “Merry Christmas, Spike.”

 

The End.


End file.
